Glew parked the Jeep by the pump farthest from the front door of Bill’s Quick-Fill gas station. He stepped out and took out his wallet. He gazed at the cashier’s window. “Damn. Have they cleaned it this century?”
He entered the gas station. The clerk met his eyes. He grinned and strolled to the counter. She frowned. He winked and handed her his credit card. “Forty on the Jeep.”
She ran his credit card. “You can pay at the pump.”
“Next time.”
“Good.”
“Do you trust your husband?”
She picked up her cell phone and typed on it. “I don’t have time for weirdos.”
“You work at a gas station.”
She printed the receipt and handed it to him. He pointed to his credit card behind the counter. “Now, now.”
She scoffed and slid the credit card across the counter and…off the counter. He picked up the card from the grime-coated floor and returned it to his wallet. He pulled out a black business card and set it on the counter. “I’m Wally Glew, private eye. Call me. I’ll get evidence of him cheating on you.”
He strolled to the exit door.
“My husband knows better than to even look at another female.”
“Call me day or night.”
He pumped his gas and opened the Jeep’s door. A truck parked at the next pump. He removed his white fedora and smoothed out his hair. He replaced the fedora and thumped the brim. Then he strolled over to the truck’s driver. “Hello, good sir. Do you trust your wife?”
Fairfax & Glew 